Do You Like Me?
Your Highness examined my ankle. His small hands carefully untied the laces of my boots. With each leather strap that loosened, the suppressed pain slowly stirred back to life. I kept my lips pressed tight. I could endure this much. It was only a slight sprain. That was what I told myself, yet the moment Your Highness removed my boot I caught my breath.
My ankle lay bare. The skin around the right ankle bone was swollen and red. Your Highness’s expression tightened.
“You were hurt this badly?”
“It’s not that serious,” I answered at once. “I was able to hold on perfectly well.”
“Weren’t you pushing yourself?”
“I wasn’t pushing myself.”
“Why didn’t you just give up and get it treated?”
“I could have won.”
“Adel’s foot matters more than winning.”
“……”
Your Highness kept saying such things so casually, without the slightest embellishment or calculation. Yet those words struck me with such precision that I found myself speechless.
Your Highness reached toward my ankle.
“Where does it hurt most?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Liar.”
“I’m someone who doesn’t know pain.”
“Is that so?”
Your Highness tapped the swollen area with the tip of his index finger. Just the lightest touch. But then—
“Eep!”
A strange sound flew out of my mouth. I didn’t immediately register what I had done. Your Highness’s eyes rounded.
“Adel.”
“…Yes.”
“Did you just make a weird noise?”
“Of course not.”
I tried to ignore the gaze boring into me. “It’s your imagination.”
“You definitely went ‘eep.’”
“It’s your imagination.”
“Eep.”
“Your Highness.”
My voice dropped. Your Highness closed his mouth, but the corners of his lips were curved upward. That was unmistakably the face of someone fighting back laughter. I felt my cheeks burn. Heat climbed all the way to my ears. The embarrassment was far worse than the pain in my ankle.
I hastily tried to pull my foot back. “You may stop looking now.”
“Why?”
“It will smell.”
Your Highness tilted his head. “Smell?”
“Yes.” I spoke as calmly as I could. “I was hunting. I rode hard and sweated heavily. These boots have been on for a long time, so my feet must reek. It isn’t something Your Highness should examine closely.”
I had wanted to show you only the best parts of me. Only the prettiest sides. So why did I keep revealing my most unflattering moments? Shame flooded me even as I spoke. I had never imagined I would utter such words myself. Still, they were necessary. I wanted to avoid letting Your Highness see that side of me at any cost.
Yet after gazing at my ankle for a moment, Your Highness very slowly pinched his nose.
“You’re right.”
I froze.
“It’s pretty bad.”
My face flared crimson. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes from the rush of heat. This was the absolute worst. I hadn’t wanted him to see me like this. I covered my face with both hands, tucked my feet away, and curled up as tightly as I could on the chair.
“I’m sorry.” My voice trembled of its own accord, laced with a hint of resentment. Couldn’t he at least say it wasn’t that bad? No matter what, I was still a woman.
“Because it smells so much.”
“Adel?”
“I’ll take care of it myself from now on.”
“Are you sulking?”
“I am not.”
“You are, though.”
“I am not!”
I was simply hurt. Simply disappointed. I turned my head away. This was unbecoming of a grand duchess. Childish. Yet I couldn’t help it. The words had come from Your Highness’s own mouth. If it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have mattered. But because it was him, the impact felt magnified.
Your Highness remained silent for a moment, then reached out again. I tried to pull my foot farther away, but his hand caught my ankle first, gentle and careful.
“You said it smells.” My tone had grown sharp.
Your Highness looked up at me. “It’s still all right.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s you, Adel.”
I could no longer hide. Your Highness slowly drew my ankle back toward him. It was hard to believe these were the same hands that had playfully pinched his nose earlier; his touch was exquisitely delicate. He opened the medicine jar. A faint herbal fragrance filled the room. The scent of earth from the hunt, the smell of leather, and the embarrassing odor I had dreaded all began to fade.
Your Highness dabbed ointment onto his fingertips.
“It might feel cold.”
“It’s fine.”
He spread the ointment over my ankle. The chill made me reflexively clench the hand resting on my knee. For some reason it tickled. Your Highness looked up at once.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“This time it’s real?”
“Yes.”
“Since you didn’t eep, it must be real.”
“Your Highness.”
“All right. I won’t do it again.”
The ointment spread thinly across the swollen area. At first it was cold. Then the warmth of his fingertips followed. The inside of my ankle. Around the ankle bone. The reddened skin. Each careful stroke made my breathing slow in a strange way. Though the hand touched a place of pain, something other than pain registered first: ticklishness, embarrassment, and an odd, indescribable tension.
I didn’t know where to rest my eyes. His hands felt too conspicuous; his face felt even more so. I tried looking out the window, but my gaze kept returning downward. Your Highness was cradling my ankle—the very spot I had tried to conceal, the injury I had pretended did not exist. He studied it with solemn focus.
“All done,” Your Highness said.
Relief washed over me. And then, just the tiniest bit—truly the tiniest bit—I felt a flicker of disappointment. The moment the thought arose, fresh embarrassment followed.
But Your Highness did not close the jar. Instead he lowered his head a little more.
“Your Highness?”
“To dry the medicine.”
He pursed his lips and blew softly across my ankle. Hoo. Warm breath skimmed over the ointment. I stiffened. The contrast of warm air against cold medicine sent heat racing up my neck. I clenched my fingers. I must not make a sound. Absolutely not.
Your Highness blew once more. Hoo. Closer this time. A gentle breeze passed over the thinly coated skin. It tickled. The chilled flesh seemed to awaken with every breath. The sensation began at my ankle, traveled up the inside of my leg, and pooled near my heart. I held my breath without realizing it.
Your Highness lifted his head.
“Adel, do you like me?”
The question came so abruptly that I simply stared at him. He remained crouched before me, medicine jar in hand, a trace of seriousness still lingering at the corners of his mouth. He wore the same innocent, unknowing face as always, yet for some reason this question did not sound light at all.
Do I like him? Why ask now? Because I was injured? Because I had lied? Or had someone else put the question in his head?
In that brief instant countless thoughts flashed through my mind. But the answer left my lips before thought could catch up.
“Yes.”
My voice was startlingly quick. “I like you.”
Only after speaking did I feel breathless. Still I could not stop. “Truly.”
I unconsciously leaned forward. Your Highness’s face drew nearer. I saw his dark eyes clearly. They were not the blurred, foolish eyes he usually wore. For the briefest moment a clear, sharp light shone within them. I did not miss it.
“Your Highness.” My voice dropped. “I like you, Your Highness.”
“Does Adel like me?”
Why had I asked that? No one answers honestly when asked if they are using someone. When asked if their feelings are sincere, they say yes—whether it is a lie or the truth. Therefore such a question is meaningless.
“I like you, Your Highness.”
Then why do I find myself wanting to believe her answer?
“Your Highness.”
Her face drew closer. Silver-gray hair slipped forward over one shoulder. I fixed my gaze on the tips of those strands, trying to avoid her eyes. I failed. In the end I met her gaze again. Adel did not retreat. I swallowed.
Was there no way to escape? I extended my hand toward her.
“I think my hand smells.”
Adel froze. “…Pardon?”
I put on the most idiotic expression I could manage. “Smell.”
“……”
Adel’s face flushed scarlet in an instant. Even the corners of her eyes turned red—redder than when she had confessed her feelings moments ago. She pressed her lips into a tight line, then spoke in a low voice.
“That’s why I said I would do it myself.”
“Wipe it for me.”
“……”
“Please, Adel.”
In the end she picked up the clean cloth lying nearby.
“Your Highness really…”
“Hm?”
“Sometimes you go too far.”
She studied me for a moment before slowly taking my hand. Her fingers were colder than I expected, yet firm—the hand of someone long accustomed to gripping a sword. That hand supported mine. I awkwardly looked away. I had been the one to ask, yet the moment she held me it felt strangely intimate.
Adel began wiping my hand with meticulous care. Thumb, index finger, the back of the hand, between each finger. The room held only the faint rustle of cloth against skin.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
“Does it truly smell?” Her voice was quiet. I looked up. Even while tending to my hand she avoided my eyes. Her ears were still flushed.
“No.”
Her hand stilled.
“Pardon?”
“It was a joke.”
Adel slowly raised her gaze. Her eyes grew very still.
“You really are too much.”
She paused, gaze dipping slightly. “I want to show you only my best sides.”
Adel added quickly, “So when you point out those other parts… it makes things a little difficult for me.”
I stared at her like a fool. She was still holding my hand, refusing to let go.
“Adel.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Show me only your good sides.”
Her eyes met mine. I spoke in the most clueless tone I could muster. “Adel is fine exactly as she is.”
“……”
“When your foot hurts, you’re still Adel. When you’re sweaty, you’re still Adel. Even when you make that eep sound, you’re still Adel.”
“The same goes for you, Your Highness. I am prepared to love every side of you.”
“Even if I’m an idiot?”
She drew me into her arms.
“Your Highness is not an idiot. You are simply pure.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Determine whether the Grand Duchess of the North truly cares for the youngest prince.
What do you think of me? How much of your heart is genuine? Are you trying to deceive me too?
If you are… that would hurt a little.
The eyes that watched Adel sank coldly.